


A Tale of Ice and Fire

by The_Serlocked_Heart



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Original Character(s), Platonic Relationships, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28678200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Serlocked_Heart/pseuds/The_Serlocked_Heart
Summary: Rowan has spent most of her existence surrounded by ice and snow. She and her best friend, Udo are assigned with the task of taking care of the younger Dark Fey. Things are ordinary, but what she doesn't know is that things are changing. New feelings develop and a certain Desert Fey has been captivated by her. How will she react to this shift in her life? Does she feel the same way?(Set a few years before the second movie.)
Relationships: Aurora/Phillip (Disney), Borra (Disney)/Original Female Character(s), Diaval/Maleficent (Disney)
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! After watching Mistress of Evil for the third time since it came out, I knew I had to write a story about it because I absolutely adored the movie and its characters, especially the Dark Fey. The world building was absolutely exceptional, and to think that the biome idea was inspired by one of Angelina's daughter's science projects is just incredible and the character arcs were just as intriguing. 
> 
> Mind you, I have gone further down the rabbit hole than I've intended, piling on another project on top of all my other ones - haha- and I am thoroughly relying on my imagination for this story, since most of the fanfictions I write follow the plot of the movies they're based on, but I will use every ounce of my willpower and try to see this through to the end. 
> 
> So without further ado, here's chapter one!

Only a few generations ago, our kind roamed every part of the world; there were once innumerable tribes offset from the universals shared by our people as a whole and humans and fey, Tundra, Jungle, Forest and Desert Nomads alike, lived amongst each other in harmony; all was right with our world. Prosperity and peace filled our days, but now, times have changed. As more human kingdoms emerged, we went into hiding... from every corner of the earth... doing what we had to, to survive. Now, our only refuge is here... in this cave. Our nest of origin.

Word of an alliance between both parties has spread, but what are mere words and promises compared to action? Discussing peace is a lot different from actually following through with it. And so far, despite our countless attempts, there is nothing preventing the humans from intruding on our lands, setting fires, cutting down our trees, poaching the Fey and destroying everything we know and love.

Very few of us have dared to venture far outside the Moors since the discord between us and the human kingdoms began, and in turn, few humans have been brave enough to come here, for the sake of keeping the peace, and since we do not wish to engage in any further conflict, we intend to keep it that way. 

A faint band of gold slowly appears on the eastern horizon, brightening as the high clouds are painted in multiple shades of pink and orange, drowning out the light of the stars. I awake, rolling out of my bed and step outside my hut, breathing in the fresh air scented with ivy and pine that nips at my skin and exhale, releasing a clear foggy cloud of my own making. Our Tundra home is known for its frost-molded landscapes, extremely low temperatures, little precipitation, poor nutrients, and short growing seasons. 

My tribe is huddled in a circle by the warm embers of the fire, wisps of smoke rise into the air before evaporating into nothingness. The newest addition, a six-week-old infant named Olwen, cries and squirms, flailing her frail little arms and legs helplessly until her mother, Neve, lifts the babe to her breast; she is able to latch on and suckle, letting out contented whimper as she takes in the life-giving milk. She's just starting to grow out her wings; they're covered in downy white feathers; it won't be long before she's taking her first leaps off the ground.

Neve brings her wings around the baby and whispers soft nothings to her; I sit among them on a frozen log, waiting patiently as they pass helpings of herring around, brought to us by the hunter-gatherers who take regular flights to the sea. Wood is all but impossible to find out here, but the permafrost peat land provides a practical alternative to stoke the fires. Udo dumps some peat bricks into the pit, prodding it with the long fork until it is well alight, then comes and sits beside me; his massive wings look like those of a snowy owl, sleek from the snowflakes melting onto them; his eyes shine, a portrait of delighted wonder, as Olwen falls asleep and Neve relieves herself from the baby's tiny, yet firm mouth. This unspoken bond between a mother and a baby has been the same for centuries. It's natural and instinctive for fey mothers to form strong attachments to their children.

“She's quite small, isn't she?” he asks me, lowering his voice to a soft whisper and tucking a strand of his ash-white hair behind his pointed ear. We grew up together, our parents knew each other and we have experienced the great things in life, as well as the bad. Here in the Moors, everyone knows everyone, so it's not everyday when a stranger comes around. 

“For now, in five minutes she'll be taking her first clumsy steps and attempting to fly.” I grin, running my hand along the snowy surface behind me, and rubbing a pinch of powdery white dust between my fingers. 

“And I'm sure we'll be even more busy keeping the little princess out of trouble once that happens. No doubt her mind will be eager to explore the Moors and she'll enough to walk on the green grass, swim in the crystal clear waters.” 

Naturally, some of the other members of our tribe think we would make a great pair, but as close as we are, there's nothing more between us than friendship. I'm not saying that I would not be open to a relationship with him. On the contrary, he has certainly caught the attention of many of the women, and all the fledglings look up to and adore him. He will be the perfect mate for someone one day.

Letting out a laugh of his own, Udo stands, dusting his hands off on his long robe that floats behind him as he walks. “Speaking of which, we should be off; I trust that the fledglings will be as hyperactive as ever?”

“You understand how the full moon effects them. It's difficult to get them to stay still long enough,” I reply, doing the same. “That's why we take so many breaks in between our lessons.”

Snow crunches underfoot as we approach the ledge, spreading our wings and prepare to take flight. Once we do, the thrum of our flight is one heartbeat, never going out of sync.

As the sun rises higher, signaling the official start of another day, we are better able to see the features of the landscape below us. 

The Nest itself is cavernous, but the vastness and intricacy of its pathways is apparent from the beginning. Natural archways connect areas like bridges, there’s green space below. To the north, barely more than a mirage on the horizon, an indistinct shimmer of dark blue against the otherwise cerulean sky reveals the sharp, snow-capped peaks of the mountains.

Our individual nests blend well with the wintry environment. In fact, there are several on every outcropping. The houses closely resemble bird's nests but built sideways. I can see every icicle, every valley and stream; the creators of this land certainly had an eye for beauty. 

Since we seem to be two of the more patient ones when it comes to dealing with high-energy ones, the task of teaching the little fey has been assigned to us. Unfortunately, we can't possibly do our job here, they would become icicles in a matter of seconds, and one who is not accustomed to the climate here, like Udo and I are, may find it intolerable.

If only the humans valued their lands as we do ours, to take only what they need and not just what they want; then they wouldn't have to turn to us for resources. One day, the whole world will be swallowed up in greed and yet the true wealth left in it will be lost forever. 

The Tundra transitions into the Forest with connective green space resembling a mountainous deciduous forest; we don’t actually see much of the Forest Fey’s living space. Immediately, I notice how much wilder the grasses are, and how green. The forest rustles in a thick canopy above us as we enter, following a winding opening between the trees, where hammocks lie. The sounds of the forest keep us on guard, not letting me forget how alive, how awake, the landscape around me is.

The thrum of our flight is one heartbeat, never going out of sync. Leaves rustle softly above, and cheerful birdsong surrounds us the closer we get. I feel myself relaxing as the rushing sound of the river gradually recedes into the distance. As soon as we land, they come to envelope us in a tight embrace, crowding around us in a friendly ambush like little penguin chicks. Tundra fey have strong parental instincts; we raise our children in shifts, and we will take in any stray we see. 

Conall is also there to greet us when we arrive. He's always believed that there could be a union between Ulstead and the Moors, that we could form a reconciliation and live a peaceful coexistence with the humans and maybe we can exist without fear and war. Find a way together. He also wants as tranquil a life among our own kind and discourages any dispute that cannot be solved with words. Shrike, the Jungle Fey scout is there, too. Her vibrant, rainbow-coloured wings stand out amongst the greenery.

“The wind is stronger today than it was yesterday,” he remarks, looking up and shielding his eyes from the harmful rays. “You shouldn't have any trouble.” With that, they both go on their way to wherever they're needed next.

“Listen.” Udo instructs, “Play in the wind, don't fight the current, go with it. It will keep you in the air.”

Standing single file on the cliff's edge, like how the human children I used to spend time with, would line up to jump into the lake, they take the dangerous plunge. We have supervisors waiting at the bottom in case something happens, but as soon as the wind picks up, they soar into the air, laughing with glee. One by one, everyone takes flight, Udo and I go down to the bottom to watch them chasing each other. 

They should be soaring over the trees and rivers, but instead they are raised here in exile, prisoners of a war that they did not create. It makes me angry, it's not right that they have to suffer for someone else's wrongdoings. We have a few orphans whose parents were lost during the recent war, and so they are brought up with us, and sheltered from the cruelties of the world. 

Udo has taken it upon himself to be their primary guardian; and although it's easy enough to get them to listen to us; that doesn't mean that we don't have some difficulties once in a while and they don't get into mischief; we once had an incident involving some rambunctious youngsters stomping on the flowers, angering a few pixies. After a stern lecture about having more respect for both the environment and the other creatures in The Moors, they used their limited powers and fixed everything up.

Fledglings are fearless and inquisitive, two things which we must always be mindful and protective of. They know enough not to venture far beyond our watchful eyes, but that's only because they are unable to sneak past the Desert Fey in charge of patrolling the border, another subject of my thoughts; but thankfully, they are cut off before I drift too far away. The children in front of us and I do a quick headcount, making sure that everyone is present and accounted for. Fey children form small flocks of their own and tend to stick together throughout most of their lives. 

“Look!” a Jungle Fey girl exclaims, pointing at the gigantic shadow flying through the trees. “It's Borra!” 

At the mention of his name, I freeze on the spot, just like the ice sculptures I used to build in my youth. Borra's skin is ruddy and rough-looking, the horns growing from his head blend seamlessly against his scalp. I'm intrigued with the sharp jut of his cheekbones and wild, blond hair that obscures part of his face. The scars on him are testament enough to what he is. Warrior, fighter. Some might call him secondary protector of the Moors the way he arcs over the sky, wings spread to catch the gusts of wind to carry him higher.

“You have your hands full, I see,” he comments with a grin, landing on the ground with a heavy thump and scanning the little gathering who start giggling; His voice is a loud one, and you would think that they would be intimidated by him, but he has been known to speak with wisdom on occasion as well, which is why they listen to him better than they listen to me sometimes. 

“Seems you do as well,” I reply, turning around and lifting my head to meet Borra's piercing gaze; his keen eyes are like that of a lion, that same amber shade which, when hit by the sunlight, makes all human eyes look bland in comparison. In fact, by fey standards, he is an attractive man, and you don't get tired of looking at him. Well, maybe sometimes he can be a bit of a brute, but inside, deep beneath that rough exterior, lies the heart of a soldier. Of course, if I tell him that, it will only further feed into that overly inflated ego of his, and trust me, that's the last thing I want to do. 

“So what brings you all the way out here?” I ask, raising a questioning eyebrow. The wind blows strongly, but oddly enough, my sleek hair stays where it's supposed to. “Surely you didn't leave your post just to have a little chat with me, did you?” 

“Well, yes and no.” He tilts his head to one side and regards me with a steady expression. “Will you be coming to the Hunter's Moon Gathering this evening?”

No one is obliged to attend, but usually everyone goes for the chance to mingle and socialize. Before I can get my head around this, or come up with a suitable answer, Udo sweeps past me and glances between us. 

“Of course she'll be there, won't you, Rowan? ”The smug smile on his face stretches and the children laugh harder; I am inclined, at that moment, to give him a firm nudge with my elbow and he cleverly dodges it; he is more of an annoying older brother than he is my mate, but that's how our friendship has always worked, with playful teasing and bantering on both ends, but we've never said anything hurtful to each other. He moves past us, leading the procession to the river to play. 

“You should. Who knows, you might find yourself a mate.” He comments with a suggestive wink. My ears give a little shiver, a nervous tick. His demeanor is abrasive – much unlike mine - and his candor makes me vaguely uncomfortable; it is safe to say that our friendship has gradually developed over the years. As children, we absolutely detested each other, quarrelling and teasing from dawn until dusk, but then we grew up and we still tease each other from dawn until dusk.

“And what makes you think that I'm interested in finding a mate in the first place?” I smirk, looking up at Borra through my eyelashes. “Over the past two months. Garin, one of the Jungle Fey, and Ruwa, who is of the Desert, both approached me once each.”

“And you turned them both down?” He seems pleasantly surprised by my answer and I turn around to see that we are the only ones here. Not a very comforting thought. 

“Yes, well, a woman has standards.” I give Borra a smile that probably wavers a little. “Anyway, I suppose if nothing more pressing arises then I will come to the gathering.” 

Satisfied with the response I've given him, he takes off, flying straight upwards into the wispy white clouds. Shrike is watching me suspiciously, a ghost of a smile can be 

The merry chatter of the Fair Folk brings warmth and light to the land and drifts through the trees. Mushroom faeries skitter across the mossy ground before them as they walk; Pixies chatter, gossiping about this and that and greeting the children enthusiastically. The grunts of Wallerbogs playing in the muddy riverbeds, can be heard as I wander the grounds, thinking to myself.

“He's certainly not shy about stating his intentions towards you,” says Conall with a chuckle. 

“I hardly think he was talking about himself, for all I know, he was talking about you. Besides, he's gruff and scruffy, shows little interest whatsoever in personal grooming-” 

“Have you even considered Borra for a mate?” He arches his eyebrow suspiciously. “After all, he's strong, clever, and a leader among his people. He will no doubt sire strong, clever children who are born leaders, and combined with your beauty, they'll be perfect.” 

“Oh, yes, just what the world needs an army of mini Borras terrorizing the cave.” I roll my eyes and look away as I feel the uncomfortable burn of sheer embarrassment creeping up the back of my neck and heat rising in my face. Tundra Fey can blush, but it's very light and barely visible. 

Of course the thought has crossed my mind, but only on the rarest occasion. Even though his presence evokes no strong feelings of revulsion, it doesn't call to mind overwhelming feelings of the opposite variety, either; our feelings toward each other are comfortingly neutral. 

He laughs. “You're right; perhaps the world isn't ready for that yet.” The Dark Fey laughs. “Well, I'll let you get back to business, but I will see you tonight.” Conall takes off and I follow him with my eyes for a brief moment before shaking my head and going to find Udo and the children. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad that you all are enjoying my story so far! This is my first fanfiction for the Maleficent fandom, and being a perfectionist, I want to make sure that each and every chapter is written to the best of my ability and even if it takes a little while until I get it absolutely right, then it's okay. Just know that I will not abandon it completely.
> 
> Also, I did a little bit of research before posting this chapter and the Hunter's Moon takes place during October or November so therefore, imagine a more Autumn-like setting in the Moors.

Shrike has told me that the weather in the Jungle Biome is generally misty mornings, very warm daytime weather with cool nights when the temperature drops down to a comfortable temperature, but right now, the air is hot and humid and for a Tundra Fey who is used to cold and snow, it took me some time to get used to it at first, but now I can walk amongst the tall trees and the tropical birds flitting from tree to tree. The sun blazes down on the ground near the river where Shrike beats her wings with practiced ease to cool herself down a little; being a jungle fey does not mean that she enjoys the hot temperatures any more than I do; she and Udo are whispering to each other and I see her lean her head back in laughter.

By the look on their faces and the way they turn in my direction, it's clear that they have been talking about me, probably about my unexpected visitor; then again, I might just be a tad paranoid. Confronting them seems to be the only solution I can think of in order to find out for sure. Suddenly, a woman jumps down from a tree and lands in front of me; I look her over, but nothing about her seems familiar, though I'm certain that she's a desert fey, judging by her wings. A thick layer of bangs are swept across her forehead and the rest of her raven-black hair floats behind her in the wind. 

She introduces herself as Ini, and the name rings a bell. Shrike has mentioned her a few times, so has Borra; perhaps I've met her once, but I just don't remember at present. 

A gleam comes into her eyes that I can only describe as the same way a vulture might survey its prey and I try to keep direct eye contact to a minimum because all of her intensity is starting to make me feel intimidated. “You're the Tundra Fey that Borra keeps swooning over, aren't you? Rowan, right?” I nod, chewing on the inside of my cheek and then turn my face skyward, squinting against the harsh rays of the sun and then close them once I cannot keep them open any longer. Even though she isn't shouting I have a feeling that people are listening in on our conversation, so I give her a look, telling her to lower her voice down.

As luck would have it, she takes my hint and then moves so that she is standing right beside me and that we don't have to shout over the noise, “You couldn't attend the gathering last year, remember that? You got really sick, and couldn't make it. Udo tried to make you something, but he's as good as medicine as he is at caring for fledglings.” Ini giggles, uncharacteristically. “Fortunately, I am much better at herbology and things of that sort.”

“It was you who made me that tonic,” I state and she nods, I try for a grateful smile. “Well, it didn't have the most appealing taste, I'll admit, nonetheless, I definitely owe you a favor. I thought I was going to die that day.”

“Well, thank the Phoenix that you didn't die, or else it would have been another death on my hands,” I am about to ask her what she means by that when she shudders and continues. “It's a common herbal tonic. The plant is easy enough to grow for us, but preparing it takes days. Because of how useful it is, it's best to brew it in big batches and bottle it all up. We're fortunate that it keeps as well as it does. Can't say the same for the some other magical remedies.”

We continue to talk about the many properties and uses of herbal medicine for the next couple of minutes until we get to the lake and she then strides up to it with her empty skin of water; she fills it up and then reclines against the sturdy trunk of a centuries-old oak swigging it. I join her on the grass, leaning back and resting my head under my arms.

“You might be wondering why I came out here to talk to you in the first place besides wanting to officially meet you, I actually wanted to tell you something I heard. I'm not sure whether you know this or not, but Udo dropped by the Forest Fey nests the other day and he was talking to Peregrine.” She pauses, lazily running her hands along the blades. “You know who I mean, don't you? The blond fey with the pretty grey eyes? Anyway, I asked him what he was doing there, I almost had to pry it out of the poor man. He told me that-”

“There you are! We've been looking everywhere,” Udo says breathlessly, landing with a quiet thump beside me, adjusting his satchel on his back, then placing his hand on my shoulder. “We should be going home if we want to be ready in time, who knows how long it will take to preen those feathers of yours.” Even though I have done a decent job at keeping up with my hygiene, he's right, so instead of chastising them, I nod and accept the hand that he's offered me and walk a short distance.

“I expect Ini told you about my talk with Peregrine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I asked her if she wanted to be my mate; That's why I was in such a daze when I came back to the nest; she said yes! I was going to tell you yesterday, but I just didn't know how, I thought it would hurt your feelings.”

“Why would it hurt my feelings? I care about you a great deal, you know that, and I'm really happy for you.” Of course I am happy for him, he's always been like the brother I never had, but always wanted growing up, and our familial bond has always been stronger than our love would ever be if we'd decided on being mates. I've met Peregrine, once or twice; she's shy, gentle, quiet and prefers to keep to herself most of the time, but she is also kind and sweet, just the perfect kind of girl for him.

“Thank you, Rowan. I knew you would understand, that's why you're my best friend,” he takes a breath and I can tell that he was anxious about telling me this news but now that he's told me he seems much more relaxed now.

“What did her clan think when you revealed the news?” It is tradition in Dark Fey culture to visit their potential mate's clans, not only to ask for their blessing before they can officially become a couple, but to gather more information about their mate, who their closest friends are and how they act around them, what past relationships they had, or just to spend time getting to know them and the atmosphere they lived in.

Very few times have mates actually called it off due to unforeseen complications. 

“They weren't surprised, actually; they knew that it was bound to happen sooner or later, but at the same time, they were thrilled.” 

“Speaking of which, Shrike and I were just talking about how you and Borra would make a wonderful pair.”

“That seems to be the main topic of conversation today.” I haven't stopped thinking about Ini's words; I've never known Borra to be the swooning type and I nearly laugh at the thought. Brooding? Grunting? If she'd said either of those two words, I would not have paid it a lot of thought, since it's quite characteristic for him to do both.

Udo squares his shoulders and flexes his chest, adopting a simulacrum of Borra’s smirk, and imitates the Desert Fey’s characteristic grunt. “Hey there, Rowan, I’d really like to grunt beside you for the rest of my days.” Diaval intoned gruffly, waggling his eyebrows at her and feigning an exaggerated swagger. “There is a waterfall in the centre of the island, where the Forest domain becomes the Jungle. It falls some thirty feet straight down, from the highest point within the island to the lowest. Behind the waterfall, there are caves. We’d have to kick out some of the young ones – they like to go there and make sweet love to each other. Perhaps we can join them!”

I burst into laughter, unable to control myself. “That's actually not bad at all!”

As soon as we arrive home, it takes a while for us to get used to the chill again. We can hear Olwen crying irritably from the other side of the doors, and the clear sound of Neve’s voice gently soothing her; but I can clearly see that she is becoming frustrated, her eyes almost puffy with fatigue and shimmering with exasperated tears. Yes, the Tundra Fey tend to be more patient with babies and children, of course this varies from fey to fey, but that doesn't mean that we don't have our moments once in a while, and it's much, much more difficult when you haven't gotten a proper amount of sleep in days. 

Her mate, Quilo, who has just returned from gathering the fish, frowns at the state of her; it is apparent that they're both exhausted and if I can spare them a few moments to rest and catch up on much-needed sleep, then I will do whatever it takes for them to do so. 

“Here, let me try and settle her, I can manage if you need to take a quick nap.” I say gently and swooping to her side, I scoop Olwen up in my arms, placing one around to cradle her head, and the other to cushion her behind; she's so incredibly fragile, I feel like I'm handling glass and the slightest misstep could end in tragedy. Thinking about the worst case scenario, I'm almost afraid to stand for too long with her, so instead, I try to sit down on the log, not too close to the fire, the crackling is enough to soothe her slightly. 

They seem all too relieved to have the baby in another pair of good hands besides their own. “Thank you, Rowan,” says Neve, placing a hand on my shoulder, “What would we do without you?” She smiles wearily at me and then she and Quilo retire into their hut for a few moments of peace and quiet.

“There now, little one, what's all the fussing about, hm? Is something bothering you? I want to ask you to for a teensy little favor. Just a tiny one. Your mummy isn't getting a lot of sleep at night, it's not your fault of course, just that she needs to look after herself in order to take care of you, do you know what I mean?” I protect her with my wings and watch her gnawing on her little fists; at least she's not crying as loudly anymore. “Do you think you can do that for me? For your mother and father?” 

I hum, brushing my smallest finger along her cheek and the corners of her mouth lift themselves up into a smile in response to my request. 

“You have quite a knack for that,” Udo says, sitting beside me; he watches the baby with the same rapture that he did before. “I think you'll make a wonderful mother one day.”

“Maybe, but I'm not sure whether my future mate will want children, or whether I'm even ready for such a responsibility.”

“The fledglings adore you almost as much as they adore me.”

“Almost?” I ask with a cheeky head tilt and Olwen's eyes begin to flutter shut. “I think you mean _just_ as much.”

“Nope, apparently I'm still the favourite.” He responds with an insolent grin. “Technically, you're the third behind Borra.”

“How and when did I become the third favourite?”

“Well, some of the more rambunctious ones like to hear about all the war stories he has to tell and now they've started to imitate him.”

“Conall was just saying that if we ever were to mate, then we would have a bunch of brooding, grunting boys who will carry mayhem wherever they go, but since he's already making an impression on the children we already have, at least I'll have some practice.”

Udo laughs. “They couldn't have chosen a better influence.”

The sun is starting to go down, which means that we will have about half an hour before the gathering starts; there's no hurry, since there's no specific time when we're required to show up, it lasts until midnight, anyway, so we can stay as long and as late as we want to. I stand on the side of the mountain, bracing myself against the rising breeze and anxiously awaiting the others who are still getting ready. It has taken longer than she had expected, considering that we started preparing a little bit later than we planned to. My nerves have remained on edge since this afternoon, and they show no signs of calming themselves until they finally step out of their huts.

A tall bonfire dominates the clearing beneath the bright full moon, which cast such brilliant light that it looks like dusk again; I find a quiet corner all to myself and wave a hand at the ground and dozens of tiny bell-shaped lily-of-the-valleys burst from the ground around it, carpeting the entire area in a blanket of green and white.

The Dark Fey eat and drink, dance and laugh, telling stories and singing songs together, before returning to their respective homes. A Forest Fey leads the children in song, their voices ring loud and clear in this small corner of the cave. This particular song tells the tale of the great Phoenix, a very powerful fey and a fierce protector of the Moors. The Dark Fey, that is – our kind began with the Phoenix. She started our race, as it were. We are all descended from the Phoenix, if one were to go back far enough. The power of the Phoenix, the power of life and death and rebirth, is one that is passed only from a mother to her children.

We were taught that song when we were young, as well as the dance that goes along with it. Their enthusiasm to learn and to embrace their culture amazes me. They start dancing an improvised jig by the fire, making up the steps as they go along, clapping a beat and chanting. Their laughter echoes through the glen over the crackling of the fire. From the corner of her eye, I can see Udo's crooked grin at their antics. I surmise that he sees so much of himself in them; playful, innocent, and curious about the world around them. Conall is sitting with him, holding out a flask which the former takes into his hand and the three of us share mutual smiles.

Hearing a particularly alarming sound, my head snaps to my left, spying the Desert Fey some distance away. He is surrounded by a group of adolescent males and a few bold fledglings who are watching in rapture; his posture indicating that he is midway through regaling them with a tale of war and reckless bravery. He holds up his hands, talons extended, to emulate bear claws and stomps from foot to foot, roaring with exaggerated enthusiasm, gesticulating into the air as he mimes his way through his chronicle of a battle long since fought.

Shrike summons shrubby tendrils from the inhospitable soil, raising them up and twirling them into a tight ball of vegetation, which she tosses up and down in one hand to gauge the weight and balance, much to the amusement of several other fledglings who would rather play than listen to war stories. Once she's pleased with the result, she tosses it into the middle and they clap and cheer before running off and passing it to each other as they run. Then she shuffles over to sit beside me and there is a certain shininess to her eyes, and I am not sure what to make of it. Amusement, perhaps? Or maybe she's had a little too much wine.

“Don’t you sit there and tell me that you’re not thinking about taking him right here, right now. I can’t believe you. You spend your days with an absolutely gorgeous creature such as he, and you’ve never once pulled him into your nest? Perhaps you should consider it, before someone else comes along and snaps up that fine specimen.” She grins.

“It's not like that.” I mutter, wishing that she would lower her voice a little and drop her impertinent line of questioning before the fey in question notices what we're talking about. The last thing I need is a desert fey with an even more inflated ego than usual. He remains eternally convinced of his own beauty anyway, and so reinforcing that belief would only serve to swell his head.

“Come on, I can tell that you want to impress him.” Shrike persists, elbowing me convivially and smirking at my discomfort. “Truthfully, I don't think the two of you have anything in common anyhow; he's a hot-head and you're more even-tempered, he is a tough leader, and you're a soft little snowflake who would just let him push you around.” I am feeling increasingly annoyed with her playful teasing, her eyes sparkle in the dim embers of the fire, making them more alluring than usual. I glance at her, intrigued. “But opposites attract, don't they? Here, let me show you all you need to know about impressing guys and girls. How's your dancing, by the way?”

I have a feeling that I know where this is going, and I am not loving it one bit. “Let's just say that I cannot dance to save my own skin; I never know what to do with my arms and my legs just don't do what I want them to do.” She bobs her head and then starts to move slowly, indicating for me to do the same; I follow her lead as she begins to show me how to properly dance, swaying gently; I stare at her but she is completely unaware that I'm watching her. I mimic her actions as best I can, closing my eyes and moving to the music, and for once, I feel as if I'm actually dancing and not failing my arms around like a tree flails its branches in the wind.

“Alright then, he's looking right at you,” she says without stopping her movements; opening my eyes just for a second, I turn to meet Borra’s gaze and see him watches me with flagrant interest. “You've already completed the first task which was getting his attention, so now you want him to catch you staring, smile a little but don't do it intensely. Hold the gaze for a second, lower your gaze so that you're looking through your lashes.” I bow my head and grin charismatically. The Desert Fey smirks and leans back against the wall, folding his arms against his brawny chest as if that's supposed to impress me.

Shrike pauses her dancing and then nods. “You have quite a knack for this, why don't you throw a wink and see what happens.” My attempt at a wink is not the best, but it must make some impression because the next thing I know, Borra is slowly approaching me like a cheetah approaches a gazelle, and standing in front of me and I flinch at his close proximity. Udo stands just behind him; he peers over the top of the Desert Fey’s left wing, catching my eye and making faces and I struggle to maintain a neutral expression. 

“Lovely night, isn't it?” I pointedly refuse to look at Shrike to ascertain that I am ‘small talking’ correctly. It's not that hard a skill anyhow, we do it all the time. why should it be any different this time around. My wings begin fluttering, another nervous tick of mine. 

“It’s suddenly gotten better.” He gives me another one of those charming smiles and I turn my head to a group of Forest and Jungle Fey chattering amongst themselves before turning back to him and he becomes rather serious. “I'm glad I found you here; I have something which I would like to discuss with you.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again, my feymily (a term deemed by the fandom.) Chapter three is finally up! I hope once again, that you don't think I abandoned this story, it's just that my schedule is quite tight lately with piles of fanfictions, short stories that I do for people on my Instagram account, and work so it's a bit difficult sometimes to squeeze some time in. 
> 
> Anyway, I have a week off, therefore, I have made it a priority to add more to the story; I want to give a shoutout to MotherMckinney21 for inspiring this chapter.

If Borra says what I think he's going to say, I am not sure how I might react; I don't think I'll be surprised, since this happens to be the main topic of conversation today and almost everyone else has been bothering me constantly about how the two of us would be good together; even Shrike said before the gathering that he might ask me to be his mate tonight, and though I know she was joking around as she always does, but it still made me feel a tad on edge and that's one of the things I don't like, not knowing things, not being able to see ahead. I am a planner, I prefer to know exactly what I'm heading into before making a rash decision. 

I am also not sure whether I will accept the proposal or decline it, there is a lot on the line when it comes to relationships and with my limited experience, I can think of a million things that can possibly go wrong and a hundred different scenarios in which one of us ends up with a broken heart, then what? We go to the awkward stage where we're just friends, but at the same time we can't bear to look at each other because of the love we shared. 

It's much too risky, and it took a long time to be acquaintances; as I previously mentioned, when we met, we could hardly stand each other. 

Shrike is looking over at us, and I can't help but wonder if she knows something that I don't know, her intuition is rarely wrong and she did mention that if it were to be any night when Borra would ask me to be his mate, it would definitely be tonight. Once she knows that she's captured my attention, she uses her index fingers to draw a heart shape in the air and I see her smile, watching as the fledglings move on from their previous game, to a new one where one of them is pretending to be a bear and the others have to run away. 

She moves a bit closer, trying to hear our conversation; and as predicted, Udo has stopped what he was doing and goes to stand beside her; some large part of me wants Borra to ask me something entirely different, just to spite them. I can see his lips moving but my thoughts are too loud, and I can't make out a single word he's telling me. Blinking repeatedly, I finally bring myself away from the chaos going on in my mind. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What were you saying?” 

“A bit distracted, are we?” He glances over my shoulder and Udo and Shrike hide behind the trees they were standing near. 

“It's nothing, really, just lost in thought.”

“And what must you be thinking about that's causing you to look so solemn all of a sudden?”

“I wouldn't worry too much about it,” someone new says and I remember that it's Ini, “she can't stand to look at you sometimes, not in the bad way, it's because she thinks-”

“Actually,” I shout over her, “Borra was just about to ask me something.”

“Oh, right,” she drawls and I can only hear the Cheshire grin in her voice, and she winks, walking away again. “I wonder what that would be?”

“There you two are. Did I catch you at a bad time?” The two of us step back awkwardly and Conall smiles briefly before resuming his natural air. “because there's something you should know. There was a human child seen on the border.”

“Was it the same one we spotted earlier?” 

“It appears so; She was sitting in the fields admiring the flowers; she is fascinated by them, and sometimes she likes to pick them, but instead of picking an entire bouquet, she picks them one or two at a time, runs away and then comes back for more.”

“That does sound strange,” I agree, “Maybe she gives them to her mother or grandmother, a human girl I once knew did that. Anyhow, I don't see her as an immediate threat.”

“She's plucking flowers now, yes,” says Borra, “but in time, once she's grown to her full size, she'll pluck fey from the sky without a single hint of remorse or compassion.”

“That may be true, or maybe she will turn out to be the opposite; maybe this human is different from the rest.”

At this, he lets out a humorless laugh that sounds as cold as the ice on the ground we walk on. “Don't be so naïve, all humans are the same.”

If I didn't know any better, I would say that this is just a prejudice that most of the other fey feel for the enemy sort; humans and fey may have equal faults, at least the Fey haven't crossed over the border with iron chains and spears, poaching the humans, as they have us for our horns, wings, and whatever else they find valuable enough to sell for a few coins.

But to Borra, this goes far beyond a simple hatred, it's personal; he has seen what the humans are capable of, and he's lost friends and family and nearly his own life because of said cruelties. 

* * *

The day was pale and cloudy, a storm of thunder and lightning fast approaching; it was almost symbolic to the chaos happening down below.

“This is all my fault, Zarina," his father said to his mother, “If I hadn't taken them to the fields in the first place, none of this would have-” he swallowed and continued, “Borra was the only one who was able to escape, but Zolan and Arya weren't so fortunate.”

“Eret, listen to me. This is not your fault,” she replied, her voice shaking and broken with her own tears and anxieties, “it could have happened no matter what, the humans have a habit of venturing into the Moors, the other day was no different; the scouts are preparing to take off as we speak.”

“If anything happens to them, I will never forgive myself. The humans are so much stronger than us, then again, evil always is.”

“You would have never been able to fight them alone, but once we gather our army, we will be stronger; we will get our children back and we will be a family once again.”

Unbeknownst to them, a small, nine-year-old boy stood against the wall, peeking his head in the doorway and could hear every word that his parents were saying and for once in his short, uneventful life, he was angry; he wanted those evil villains to pay for what they had done, for the pain that they caused himself and his mother and father; the urge to see their bodies lifeless on the ground overwhelmed him, tore at his innocent young mind and without anyone seeing him, the fledgling ran out the door with the only weapon his father had ever given him, a small pocket knife.

Borra hated to admit it; compared to the rest of the fey, he had frail arms, an unblemished baby face and puffy wings that still hadn't grown to their full length yet; besides that, he was a very emotional child who would cry if a baby bird wasn't able to hatch from his egg. In his opinion, that didn't necessarily scream 'bloodthirsty warrior', but the passion boiling inside him certainly made him feel like one. 

After hours and hours of constant flying, Borra managed to reach the castle long before any of the Fey Scouts did; unfortunately, it didn't take too much longer for him to get caught; the bravery and determination he felt at saving his abducted brother and sister, vanished completely, replaced by exhaustion from the two-day, non-stop flight that it took for him to get here, and he trembled with a mixture of fear and anger at the three, scar-faced guards who he'd seen before and had cornered him against a cold, hard stone wall.

He traced each and every corner of his surroundings, searching for a loophole, a way out of this tight circle; one of the men, the biggest one, roared with laughter and the rest of his goons followed along. 

“Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, little winged beast,” he said with a taunting grin and Borra should have been afraid, begging for mercy on his hands and knees, instead, he stood perfectly still, thinking about what would happen if you were to move that protective iron armor that was keeping his skin and vital organs safe from any possible damage. He wanted to ram them with his little tufts of horns, though he wished that they were bigger and stronger like Zolan's, and ram him right where it hurts. 

“Sebastian is right, you're trapped with no means of escape,” another replied, and Borra scrunched up his nose at the stench of his foul breath inches from his face. Seeing how the little being flinched at every movement aimed at him made the men laugh even more and there was a familiar, jingling sound followed by a searing pain in his chest where something was bring pressed against him.

_Iron._

His mind complied to the fear that he'd been holding back until now and he bent over, curled up like a baby, all while tears begin streaming down his face, shame and embarrassment radiating through him, begging for release. 

A heart-rending battle cry shook the earth and bits of dirt come flying at him, into his eyes and nearly blinding him, that's when a rush of air suddenly engulfed him, and the chains abruptly ripped off of him. Borra blinked away the dirt and through his blinded vision, could only make out the large shape standing in front of the guards who were now the ones trembling in fear. 

“Da?” Borra said, weakly and someone else approached him, the hands much more feminine. “Ma! I tried, I tried to save them, I did-”

“Shh, It's alright, darling, everything will be alright,” she said, lifting her son into her arms and holding him, only a few seconds before bringing him onto the ground. “We need to find Zolan and Arya, before it's too late." 

“What about Da?" he turned to his father as one of the soldiers grabbed him by the shoulders, a pointy iron sword just centimeters away from slicing his wings clean off.

“You will never find them, little one,” the thinnest guard said, pulling the child's eyes away from the dreadful sight and looking no more intimidating than he looked before, “not alive at least.” just then, a horrible sound filled the air. Borra looked over and saw his father lying in a lifeless heap at the feet of the soldiers, one of the men held his wings, his menacing grin mimicked the shape of the crescent moon above them. 

It was at that moment when a churning sensation simmered within his stomach and he looked up at his mother whose face had grown pale and her eyes brimming with furious tears as she hollered a strangled battle cry, but her attempt was silenced when more soldiers ran out and surrounded her with more iron chains. 

“Borra! Run! Get away while you still have the chance!” she yelled against the agony she was enduring. 

Terrified, he glanced at his mother, locking eyes with her and watching her lips move, saying the three simple words which would be her last, as she bravely kept her eyes open long enough to see his response and to be the last thing she saw before she accepted the inevitable. 

It was as if a volcano erupted inside him; it caused his wings to puff up and the ground beneath their feet started to rumble as he lifted a fisted hand and slowly uncurled his fingers, a rustle of leaves and vines were the only response to his elevating burst of strength and he let out a wailing screech; this battle cry was not as strong as his father's, but again, he didn't care. A fleeting glimpse of the guards was all it took for an abrupt force of surging power to fill the area, tossing all three men in various directions and screams of utter terror were like music to his ears as each of them landing with a series of sickening cracks and thuds, followed by an almost deafening wave of silence.

Panting heavily, Borra slowly picked himself up from the ground and wandered over to where the body of one of three men lay. Unable to control the strange desire to get a closer look at the deceased man, Borra's eyes carefully traced his mangled body, bated breath accompanied his every move. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, the young fae followed the remainder of the guards, wanting them to suffer the way his family did, until he reached the inside of the castle where three more guards were carrying two bodies around a corner, and it was at that second that he decided to follow them into a dimly lit room and what he saw would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

That was when one of the scouts rushed inside, quiet as a mouse, and scooped him into her arms, carrying him above the clouds away from the turmoil that no child should ever have to endure at such a young and delicate age. 

* * *

“Borra?” I ask, calmly placing a hand on his shoulder; I am the only one he's entrusted with this story and therefore, I understand and sympathize with him, if someone killed my family and traded the parts of their bodies as if they were nothing but specimens instead of living, breathing beings, I would be angry, too. 

He looks down at his hands; his fists are clenched so hard, that angry half-moons have been dug into them and when he speaks, his voice is soft. “Where is Conall?”

“He and Ini left once he saw you having a panic attack,” It is normal for him to have flashbacks, even nightmares at the memories that consume him, it fills him with a constant anxiety that he will lose others.

“I'm fine, it's not his fault, he doesn't know about what happened.” He sits down and clears his throat, looking down at the ground. I sit down beside him. “I can still hear their cries, can't get them out of my head; I wasn't strong enough to save them.” 

“You did all that you could,” I whisper. “Most fey at that age would never have dared to go to the human world, that just proves how brave you are.” 

He smiles sadly and then turns his eyes to look at the fire, “What are we going to do then? About the girl?”

“We agree that she does not pose an immediate threat to us, so long as we stay hidden, we will be safe.”

“Right, before we were were so rudely interrupted, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join me tomorrow. You know, the usual scouting stuff. Unless you have other things to do, then-”

“I would love to go with you,” I blurt out, a little too quickly, it's starting to become a bit of a habit, but it almost feels worth it when his face lights up; most people don't often see Borra smile, and when he does, it is almost contagious and I should take advantage of it while he's in a good mood. 

“Good, I'll see you bright and early then.”

“How early?" I inquire; if it's another thing you should know, despite loving my job, I don't like waking up early, preferring to sleep in until noon and then staying up until midnight versus waking up before sunrise and sleeping before sundown. 

“As soon as the moon reaches the tip of the mountain,” he gestures to the tall mound in the tundra biome a large distance away from us, “the air is cooler then than in the daytime when the sun is at it's hottest.”

“I don't usually like getting up early, and I am not too fond of the heat, either,” I admit, not because I do not wish to go with him, or make it look as though I'm changing my mind, just because I wish to be honest about it, “but I will make an exception, only for you.” I add the last part just to lighten the mood and he seems to take the hint, and with another dazzling smile, goes back to the others who have been waiting impatiently.

Not having anything better to do, I decide to join them, sitting beside one of the fledglings, wishing I could take all of that regret and anger that he's ever felt, everything that caused him pain and bury it in a deep chasm at the bottom of the earth where it shall never reach the surface ever again. 


	4. Chapter Four

Thankfully, I am awake and have left before anyone else can ask me any questions; this is just like when Borra and I used to sneak out together and play together by the lake, and while I was preparing, I kept glancing over my shoulder lest someone catch me and that's exactly what I'm doing right now, hoping that I will not run into anyone, specifically Udo; Not that I don't appreciate his advice, but I'm sure that I can navigate this whole thing - whatever it is, on my own. I expect the whole thing to be silent and I don't think I am going to enjoy walking silently and falling prey to my thoughts. If I am to spend time with someone, especially someone I've known for most of my life, someone who everyone assumes I have caught feelings for, I want them to talk, I want them to distract me from them.

And it's going to be more awkward since it's going to be just the two of us and while that never used to be a cause for concern when we were children, now that we are grown up and things change, it is definitely going to be different being alone together. Then again, why does it have to be? We are the same two people that we've always been. Even if we do end up being together, nothing is going to change the way things are. 

The cold moves in only to meet the warmth of my blood, my defense against such ice. I feel it wash over my skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of my heart, again and again. The truth is, as hard as it is, that so long as I keep moving I'll win. 

The distance between the tundra and the desert is not a long one, but it gives me the perfect view of the other biomes, and the Moors is not short on it's wildlife, either. 

A white hare hops along the snowy ground, blending in so perfectly with her surroundings that I almost miss her; an owl swoops past me and then comes back so that we are flying together. If you could see us right now, or if you can picture it in your minds, you can see how similar our wings are, minus the size difference; in the forest, a herd of deer bounds through the forest, their hooves making a great drumming sound, then I see what they are running from, a fox, though she appears to have no intention of hunting the deer, she turns to a bush and leaps inside it; and in the jungle, a large parrot with wings much like Shrikes, glides over the trees, landing on a steady branch and letting out a loud _caw!_

The desert is much colder than it normally is and the air is less humid; it's the perfect morning for a patrol; I sit on a smooth rock and wait for Borra to show up; punctuality is one of the important qualities of a leader and you can always depend on him to show up when he's supposed to. the buzzing of cicadas remind me of something he once told me, when we were just fledglings. They are little bugs who come out from their hiding places every summer, and once they do, they sing and then they die. It's almost like us, we are born, we live and then we die; that's the way it is, that's the way it has always been since the beginning of time, and that's the way it will always be until the end of our world. 

As expected, the heavy wing beats let me know that he's arrived and so I push all the thoughts to the back of my mind, surely I am overreacting and being overly cautious and once we are walking side by side, I feel all of those feelings fading away and all is as it normally is, just two friends enjoying a nice walk together. 

“Well, I don't know what we're going to do for the next few hours since no one else is awake yet.” I stand up, flapping my wings a few times to keep cool. 

“There's no harm in getting an early start. Besides, everything is quiet and it's just the two of us.” I must be easier to read than I think I am because then he says, “Come on, Rowan, most girls would throw themselves forward to spend time with me.”

“I guess I should count myself lucky then.” At that moment, something small swoops past me and I duck my head. 

“Relax, it's only a bat; and no, contrary to what others may tell you, they don't fly in your hair.”

The animal flies at me again and I swear I can feel his tiny feet trying to claw at me.

“Are you absolutely positively sure about that?”

“Have I ever tricked you before?” 

“I can name at least ten occasions on the top of my head right now.”

“Alright then.” In one swift motion, he reaches out and then catches the bat between his hands, then slowly opens them. “You can pet him, he won't fly away or claw your hair out.”

I stroke the top of his head with my index finger and I hear something along the lines of a little cry and we both frown.

“His wing, it's injured,” he observes and I can feel his fingers gripping my index one and I inhale sharply. The sun is coming up so it's much easier for me to see.

“It should only take me a minute or two to fix him up, I just need you to keep a hold of him, maybe keep petting him, but be careful I don't know if he'll bite you or not. There we are.”

Holding my hands straight out, I keep them still until a small light emanates from them and I can slowly see the wing beginning to patch up again. 

“How do you do that? The healing thing.”

“I don't know, I've just been able to do it my whole life.”

It doesn't take long for us to finish our procedure and the little critter is flying before we know it. 

“Now then, our first stop is the Jungle.”

“Do you take the same route or do you sometimes switch it up?”

“It's always the same, routine and structure make things easier.”

“I understand that. It's like when we teach the children.” 

“I would imagine they are all missing you today.”

“Probably.”

As predicted, our patrol is pretty much uneventful, since everyone is tired from last night's festivities and the few people who are out are relaxing. Not much action as I thought; The creeks weave across the landscape to finally spill into the great river – the very same river which makes its way through the heavy tree cover of the Moors to the border with Ulstead, the neighbouring kingdom, the one whose citizens despise our kind, but as I've said before, they have less reason than we do to despise them. Our several attempts at peace have failed, but this doesn't appear to stop this inquisitive little girl from stopping by the field and picking a flower. 

Borra watches her, not with scrutiny as you might expect, but with guarded curiosity; quickly, he glances over at me and then moves a little bit closer to get a better look at her. I move a few paces as well, but keep my distance. 

“Feeling brave this morning, are we?” I whisper, and he stretches his hand behind him to keep me back. 

“Probably.” He replies softly and moves a little bit closer, making the leaves in the tree sheltering us rustle and the girl's head snaps upward, eyes darting left and right, looking for where the sound is coming from. Instinctively, I grab his arm. 

“Alright, Borra, we're close enough.” He gently tugs his arm free and looks over his shoulder at me. “Whatever you're planning, it's not going to work.”

“Just a little bit closer; I might be able to get a good read on her once we see her.”

“Well, last time I checked, you're not necessarily the least intimidating fey,” I say truthfully, “if we want answers, let me talk to her, or we can wait until Conall wakes up and he can settle things, he's much better at dealing with human and fey affairs.”

“Honestly, Rowan, I'm perfectly fine. You stay here and if I need you, I'll signal you.” Before I can say anything else to him, he flies down, and let me tell you that he's not the most graceful out of us, and when he lands, a sprinkle of dirt flies around him. 

Groaning to myself, and cursing the skies above, I land a few inches beside him and the little girl doesn't react how I thought she would, instead, she doesn't move at all, she keeps her eyes fixed steadily on Borra, who approaches her calmly. 

“Hello,” she says, taking bold, determined steps forward; her voice is soft, sweet, and if it had a scent, it would smell like the flowers growing around her.

“Hello,” I reply, kneeling in front of her and I can see her eyes trailing up and down, trying to figure us out. 

“What are you?” She asks. 

“We're fey.”

“Really? My mama told me about your kind, how they live in a hidden world where we humans can't see them.”

“Is that so?” She nods. “Is that the reason you've been picking the flowers?”

She glances down at the flower clutched between her dainty fingers. “Oh, are they yours? I can grow some fresh ones if you want me to since I can't put them back. Papa says never to come here, but we don't have flowers were we live, it's all dirt and mud.” She pauses thoughtfully. “My mama is sick and when I bring her the flowers, it makes her feel better.”

“That's very thoughtful of you, taking care of your mama, I'm sure she means a lot to you.”

“I tried to grow my own flowers, but the garden is just dirt and mud and nothing ever grows there.”

“Show us where your garden is,” Borra says unexpectedly and she skips ahead of us. 

“What do you think you're doing?” I hiss lowly, “The little girl is harmless, sure, but what about her parents? What if they capture you? What if-”

“Don't be so worried. This should only take a minute or two, and it's not that far,” he lowers his voice, “and once she has her flower garden, she will stay here where it's safe for her. Trust me, darling.”

“Darling?” I ask, feeling my eyes twinkling as I repeat the word over and over in my head. 

He smirks cheekily. “You don't like it? I thought you would be pleased with the name I gave you.”

“I am, it's just that- I mean - No of course I like it, but - Why are you so annoying this morning?” 

“Annoying? Who's being annoying? I'm just trying to have a bit of fun with you.” 

I point my finger at him dangerously, and make my voice sound as threatening as possible. “I swear, one more word out of you and I'm going to slap you!”

“And how will you do that? You're such a tiny, itty bitty snowflake.”

“Snowflake?! I can take you down right here right now, fuzzball.”

“And I can just as easily avoid you, and you'd better be careful,” he warns, leaning in close, “I can have you captured in these vines in five seconds flat and have you begging for mercy.”

“Mercy? Really?” I roll my eyes. “I have never begged once in my life.”

“Darling, I can make all sorts of things happen and I have a feeling that you might enjoy it.” 

“You're getting on my last nerve, and believe me, you don't want to know what happens next.” 

“Then tell me anyway.”

I swallow, hard, then choosing to ignore him, I raise my voice a little to speak to the girl. “You never told us your name.”

“I'm Freya,” she says, turning the corner until we reach a small farmhouse, and she's right, this is not the right sort of land for a garden. “Papa is at the market and Mama is in bed, so it's just us here.”

“Right, well, you are not going to tell anyone who did this, are you?” Borra asks and she shakes her head earnestly and he nods, glancing around, making sure that no one else can see us or hear us, then with the flick of his wrists, the ground is free of any mud, only fresh soil. “And what would you like to grow in your garden?” 

“The same flowers that are in the Moors, white ones, yellow ones, purple ones, pink ones.” Freya goes over the list and I laugh. 

“Very well, Freya. You shall have all the flowers you wish.” He starts to work and she watches in wide-eyed, childlike innocence and wonder as the once dry and uninhabitable patch of land is filled with flowers of all kinds, and I begin to set little stones out to make a border. 

“I wish I could do that with my hands.” She stretches them out and grunts, but nothing comes from her hands. 

“It takes practice, I'm sure you'll learn to do it one day,” Borra tells her and makes his way to leave, but she takes his large hand in hers and makes a little sound. He glances over at me and then back down at Freya. “Perhaps we will come visit you soon.”

She smiles, going to pick a flower and begging me to pick her up, which I do, she reaches over and places it in his hair. “So you'll remember me.”

“I won't forget you,” he says softly as I set her down again and when she goes over to tend to her little garden, we slip quietly away. 

* * *

Our wings are close enough that they nearly touch and after several solemn moments, during which the disheveled Fey eyes me keenly and curiously, we are silent. This is exactly what I feared, being left to dwell on my own consciousness and lulled by the rhythmic beating of our wings. 

“Hello, Rowan? Are you there?” Borra says suddenly. The gruff brashness of his voice startles me and I nod. “You seem awfully distracted lately, is there anything the matter?”

“No, I'm alright, it's just that there are a lot of rumors floating around and I'm not sure that I like it.”

“Rumors? About what?” 

“About the two of us.” I look away, suddenly all too aware of the anxious thudding my own heart and the abrupt increase in my pulse. 

“Ah, but I don't see that as a bad thing. Let them think what they want and don't let it bother you. Nothing they say is going to make me keep my distance from you. ” 

He has only ever played at courtship before, teasing and hinting at a desire for me rather than being forthright about it, and I prefer it that way. That's been the way of our friendship for forever. 

There is a waterfall in the centre of the island, where the Forest domain becomes the Jungle. It falls some thirty feet straight down, from the highest point within the island to the lowest. Behind the waterfall, there are caves. Borra, Udo, Shrike and I always hung out there when we were young, and once in a while, we still go there. 

Grunting, we land with a hefty thud and crouch down so we can successfully go through the entrance of a cave without bumping our heads. 

The roar of the waterfall can be heard throughout the cave, whose floor is twenty feet below and the water beneath looks wonderful shining in the sunlight. I have never tried to swim, but diving off the ledge has always been our favourite pastime. He looks over at me and his eyes look a shade lighter thanks to the sun bouncing off the cave walls and casting a warm, hazy glow on his face. 

“Are you ready?” I nod and then grinning, we take the plunge, opening our wings just before we hit the water, laughing the entire way up. I would give anything just to pause this moment and keep it forever. I would paint it as soon as I return to the Tundra, but unfortunately, I am not the least bit of an artist so it might just end up looking like a big mess. I suppose I will just have to settle for a mental picture, those are the best kinds anyway and I have already memorized the deep, almost lithoid cracking of Borra's skin or his elongated, tusk like horns which rose straight up from his forehead, anterior to the tangled blonde mess of his hair.

I can also imagine the exact shape and colour of his eyes and his smile, even when I'm not even with him. As we skim the surface of the water, my thoughts begin to wander again, and this time, I cannot stop them. As much as I would like to deny it, these feelings for Borra have turned into ones that I didn't think I could feel with anyone, especially not my best friend and I may sound repetitive when I say that love is something very new and odd to me, and I feel as if I'm treating like a sickness rather than something normal and natural for all species capable of living and breathing and I shouldn't be scared of it. 

You would think that once you get older, love becomes more clear and you can understand it, but let me tell you from experience that it's not easy, it's not simple, it's messy and the path you take is never a straight one, it's filled with twists and turns and you can get so easily lost, but that's what makes it so incredible. 

How am I supposed to do this now? I can't just stride on over to him and say, “Guess what? I realize that all of these rumors will be true once I tell you that I love you.” Can I? Maybe this is what scares me, being rejected and then living the rest of my life in shame because I had confessed my feelings to someone who doesn't share the same affections for me. 

Now that I think about it, however, given everything that I've seen, the chances of being rejected by Borra are slim to none; for example, while we were in the air just moments ago, or yesterday before the gathering, he'd been flirting with me constantly; I also remember the time he stopped by the Tundra Biome a few weeks ago to talk with my tribe, but sent me away to talk with Shrike. I didn't know the reason for any of those things until now, it is because he feels something for me. 

And I him. 

Later, we lay on our backs against the rocky ledge, far enough away that we won't fall off and stare at the light bouncing off the water below on the ceiling, his fingers brush against mine and once in a while, we turn our heads to look at each other. 

“It's true,” he says suddenly, breaking the tranquil silence surrounding us and I sit up; off my inquisitive look, he continues, doing the same, “the rumors going around about....you know. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I'm in love with you, Rowan. I have been ever since we were kids and I was constantly teasing you. It wasn't because I didn't like you, it was the complete opposite; I was in love with the little tundra fey who had the heart of a desert warrior, whose feathers were as white as the freshly fallen snow, and whose eyes were so wide and so deep, I could read your whole story just by looking at them.”

It is not very often that I am speechless, but Borra's speech has caught me completely off guard; here I thought I was going to be the one to awkwardly profess their love, but once again, I am wrong. What should I say back? I can't not say anything, and I don't want to overdo it and sound weird. But what do I do instead? I just sit there gawking at him, looking like a giant idiot and feeling like an even bigger one because all of the words that I wanted to say have been completely erased out of existence. 

All attempts at forming a sentence have failed and a look of hurt crosses his face, or at least I think it does. “I understand if you don't feel the same way, I am sure you have many fey chasing after you, but I meant what I said before, about how nothing anyone, including you says or does will lessen my affections for you. You will always-”

I don't give him the chance to say anything else, lest he break both of our hearts and this beautiful day ends up being ruined. Getting on my knees, in one bold second, a moment of adrenaline and courage, I lean forward and bring my lips down onto his, being mindful of the healing split against the right corner of his bottom one; almost instantly regretting it because my mind goes numb and I forget what I'm doing. 

_Now what am I supposed to do?_

_How do I get out of this awkward position?_

_This is just what I thought would happen, I've ruined everything._

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Instantly, I pull away and turn to look at the water so he can't see how embarrassed and guilty I feel and probably look and the moment I turn to look at him again, his eyes are wide and it appears as though he's trying not to laugh. 

“We should be going back,” I murmur, eyeing him sidelong and standing to my feet, and my heart stutters erratically in my chest.

“No,” He almost snarls, taking hold of my arm, but then remembers himself quick with a shaky intake of breath. “Not yet, let's just say here a little while longer.”

Slowly, I sit back down again and this time we are both directly facing each other, and as if to set the mood for the romantic atmosphere, the light in the cave grows dimmer and so it becomes harder for us to see our faces, but I feel his arms encircle my hips and pull me closer to him and bite back a shudder, met only by a deep chuckle while he adjusts me in his grasp.

“Are you ready for what comes next?” He whispers against the skin of my neck, making the small hairs on them stand on end. I have a good feeling about what is about to happen, and Borra must feel my nervousness because he lifts his head ever so slightly, and looks deep into my eyes. “It's alright, you can trust me. I promise that you're safe.”

I take a moment to prepare myself and then nod. “I trust you.”

At first it's with these gentle, barely-there touches, just to explore how he feels before I smooth the flat of my palms against his wings and find a satisfying rhythm, tenderly stroking over each massive feather. 

I move to sling my arms around him, and my hands hover tentatively over his wings, a new wave of emotions- shame, confusion, guilt, excitement, anticipation - all sweep over me, but it's not enough to make me regret what I am about to do, or change my mind. 

I am tired and feel as if all my energy has been drained. I let my eyes shut fully and softly pet the top of his head until I can tell that I'm falling asleep. The light in the cave has changed over the few hours we've been here and now it is nighttime. I hope no one is worried about me, though if my tribe is already informed about his intentions, then everything is fine and I don't need to rush home; once more it's the two of us alone in a warm, dark night.


	5. Chapter Five

When I wake up the next morning, I hear the rain tapping on the cave roof and animals calling to each other; the sounds echoing through the cave are combined with the rain make for the perfect ambience, and with Borra's arm wrapped around my middle, I feel completely safe and secure; though it still gives me those butterflies in my stomach that everyone else talks about. My eyes begin to close again, but a short huff sounds from behind me and the arm slowly begins to release me and a cold rush is all I feel. I grumble under my breath and reach behind me to see if I can bring the arm back to me. He exhales against my neck, making the hairs on the back of it ride and causing a small moan to come out of such an action; a brief repeat of what had happened last night, which I have chosen to withhold from my readers since you may not enjoy hearing every single detail of what happened; maybe I shouldn't have implied that something happened at all, forget I said that, I tend to ramble when I'm nervous or excited.

"Morning, beautiful," he mumbles, his voice husky and deep from just waking up; his accent sounds more thick in the mornings than it does at any other time of day, except when he's passionate about something. "Did you sleep well?" 

"The best sleep I've had in a long time, though it took a while for my mind to settle down." I smile, turning over onto my other side in order to get a better look at him; just because I have memorized every inch of him doesn't make me any less susceptible to his beauty or that I will ever tire of looking at him. That is an impossibility; it might seem shallow when I say this, but if he had looked any different, I might not have been so easily swayed by his affections; I'm not saying I wouldn't love him no matter what, I am merely pointing out that I prefer a rugged look over a neat and tidy one. 

"Of course, anything as exciting as that would have kept anyone up, and it's a good thing there wasn't anyone else here or they would have heard just how excited we were." 

I laugh at his comment, "That would be an awkward story to tell," I agree; Gradually, we both sit up; I run my fingers through my tangled mess of hair, gently combing out the knots, then sigh loudly. "I wish that I could stay here forever, away from all the noise and the chaos and the noise." 

"So do I," he replies, reaching a hand out and silently instructing me to turn around so that my back is facing him and he begins combing the rest of the knots out with his fingers; despite their roughness, they are gentle as the morning breeze, "it's the reason why I chose this particular spot in the first place, because it's quiet and peaceful. 

"It would be the perfect nest, just for the two of us." I mutter, closing my eyes as he stops fiddling with my hair and brushes his fingers against the bare skin of my neck where he made his affections clear to me in the dark of the night; the loving caresses nearly causes my mind to go completely blank. It's funny how when you're in love, you notice things about your mate that you didn't know before. Like yesterday when he was with Freya, how kindly and softly he treated her, even though humans are his enemy and he swore never to go near one again unless it was in mortal combat. 

Maybe it was just a spur of the moment, he saw something in the child that reminded him of himself, something that only the two of them would understand. 

"Or three." Borra's words once again shock me and for a second, I turn around and search his face for a hint that he might just be joking around with me, but he's serious. 

"Who are you and what have you done with Borra!?" I ask, laughing lightly. "The last time we talked about children, you said that you didn't think you would want any, and I was okay with that, even though it technically wasn't any of my business, but now-" 

"I don't know, really. It's just that after meeting Freya, I thought about what it would be like to raise one as our own. Not a human child, I don't think, but one of the orphans." 

"That's a big decision and it takes much more than a desire for children to be a parent and there's also a vast difference between an infant and a fledgling. 

"It's nothing that we cannot handle; you can be the gentle yet tough mother, and I can be the tough yet gentle father." 

"Listen, we will discuss this more later, but we should get going or the others will start suspecting things if we don't make it in time." 

"Something tells me that they already do suspect things."

"I also believe that Udo and Shrike have been trying to get us together for months. Conall is in on it, too; speaking of which, I hear that Udo is on a conquest of his own." 

"I think that's why he's taken it upon himself to tease me, because I used to tease him about girls back when we were young." 

"So you deserve it then? Is that what you're saying?" 

"I believe it is." 

We exit the cave the same way we came in and stand over the edge of it, watching as a family of ravens soar in the pale clouds right above our heads and cawing loudly to each other. As we take off, the rain splashes our faces and wings and soaks our hair, but we don't care - at least I don't, I can't speak on behalf of my mate. 

Mate? Is that really what we are now? After so many years of friendship, something we both hold very valuable, is this the turning point in our lives? 

"There you two are!" Shrike says; we both were right about her and Udo waiting for us, but that doesn't make it any less embarrassing. 

"You should have been back an hour ago," says Udo, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Honestly, don't you both have anything better to do than to do than to hover over us?" Borra asks, annoyed. 

"We were worried. We thought something happened to you after your escapade with the human girl." 

"You have no reason to fear her anymore; Rowan and I handled the situation." He leaves with Udo and explains what happened. 

Shrike lingers behind and I know that she has a lecture in mind for me, and I am not in the proper frame of mind to stay still and listen to an hour of rambling while all I feel like doing is leaping from place to place. 

"Since when are you and Borra an item?" She asks as soon as we're alone together; so much for keeping our relationship a secret, or maybe it's okay for me to confide in her. I don't have to recount every detail, just the important ones. 

"Since yesterday," I reply, kicking a small pebble with my foot. 

"I'm guessing that's why he asked you to go scouting with him, so he could confess his feelings to you." 

"What do you mean by 'you're guessing' I know you better than that, you knew this would happen."

"What can I say?" She grins and shrugs, fluttering her wings a little. "Anyone with half a mind knows that you belong together." 

"It's odd, isn't it? In the beginning we couldn't stand each other, but now I can't imagine ever being without him. What if something happens and I lose him forever?" 

"That's how most relationships work, and we can't spend our whole life focusing on the bad stuff, then we will miss all the good stuff along the way." 

I am actually surprised at these words. "You can be wise sometimes, you know that?" 

"Sometimes?" She asks teasingly, "and I think that's because I've been spending time with you and Udo. You Tundra Fey are always so wise." 

"Well, I wouldn't say always. Remember the time a couple of Forest Fey pranked me into going into a bear's cave?" 

"People wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks." She laughs, I laugh along with her. "I'm going to miss this. Us just talking about things." 

"Miss it? Come on, Shrike. It's not as if I'm going to abandon you and Udo just because Borra and I are as you say 'an item,' things between us will still be the same." I wonder if this thought only occurred to her now, or whether she's always thought about it. "We're sisters and sisters always come back to one another, sisters before misters, that was our motto when we were little, remember?" 

"Actually, I don't mean to take the light away from your relationship, but I've started one of my own." This doesn't surprise me; anyone would be lucky to have Shrike as their mate; she's brave, fearless, smart, all the good qualities that any fey girl could possess is inside her spirit. 

"Oh, and who is the lucky man?" I ask, not minding in the least that the subject has switched a bit; her smile falters lightly and I wonder if I've said something wrong and if she might not wish to say anything, she looks around, as if making sure no one else is around to hear us, and one corner of her mouth lifts. 

"Actually, it's a girl." She turns her head to look at the ground. "She told me that her name was Suren, we met a couple of weeks ago while I was scouting; she was standing on the edge of a rocky outcropping and the wind was blowing through her hair and her eyes were turned to me, crinkling up as she smiled. I wasn't quite sure what I was feeling, but I knew that she was the most beautiful, most compelling person I had ever encountered, and I had fallen into her eyes and tunneled down to her heart, just so I could see all the love she had to give. At first, I brushed it away, thinking that I was just lightheaded and not thinking straight, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about her, and one day, I worked up the courage to talk to her and now..." 

"That's-" 

"I know, weird, strange, disgusting-" 

"Actually, before you so rudely interrupted me, I was going to say beautiful and romantic; Shrike, you don't ever have to apologize for this, why would you say you were sorry for having feelings for anyone?" 

"It's not the natural order of things; in the human world there are rules about this, rules that one must abide to to keep things from falling apart." 

"Humans are strange, I'll admit, and what does it matter what they think? Here in the Moors, we are allowed to love freely and openly no matter who we fall in love with; and if Suren is the one you love, the one who shows you a part of yourself you never knew you had, or makes you feel like life, however dark it may seem, is worth living, you shouldn't let that chance or that person slip away from you; adore her and cherish her every chance you get." 

"Thanks, Rowan, it feels good to finally tell someone; I've sort of been keeping it a secret until now, but what you said helps me out a lot." She smiles, drying a tear with the back of her hand; it is not often that Shrike cries, but when she does, she pours her entire soul out on the floor for the world to see, and I bring her into my arms, the way a friend should. "I don't think I'll tell the others quite yet, I want to wait and see how things go." 

"And that's perfectly fine, you can do it whenever you're ready, there's no rush, but I'm your friend, and so is Udo and Borra; we all love you and support you no matter what. And who knows? Maybe our children will grow up together." 

She looks at me and laughs wholeheartedly, then turns her face to the rain, looking as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. "Speaking of, it looks like they're back," she says, nodding to Udo and Borra who have just shown up. 

"We should get back to work," says Udo. "The fledglings keep asking where you've been all this time. I told them that you slept in and that's why you're late. I don't think they'll believe me for long."

"We can't have them all asking deep questions, can we?" I reply. 

"I don't see why we have to hide it, I'm proud to show off my mate," Borra says, wrapping his arm around me and I give a small smile in return.

"Right, well, let's leave the showing off until the end of the day, hm?" Udo gently tugs me away from him and smirks, "when the little ones aren't around." 

"Udo's right," says Shrike, grinning playfully and I'm glad she is feeling better now, "save the flirting until you're back at your nest."

"You're no fun," the desert fey complains, slumping his shoulders and he and Shrike walk in the opposite direction as Udo and I go off to work. 


	6. Chapter 6

Upon this rainy day I am woven by these water threads into the ether that stretches from heavens to earth. Each raindrop is a kaleidoscope, if we could only see more closely. I wonder as I walk how it would be to stop time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside those raindrops and take that gravity propelled ride to the earth, as I imagine it I feel my inner self laughing - a little at the crazy daydream and a little at my own silliness. I see the rain beads upon the cars, upon each leaf and washing my outstretched fingers. Soon they will pull together, forming the puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps it isn't normal to love a rainy day so much, but who cares about normal anyway? I'm pretty sure "normal" is a made up thing.

I walk underneath a canopy of leaves; it is in the Jungle where the rain is the heaviest, and where the hot air mixes to create almost a steamy atmosphere; It reminds me of the little hot springs that are in the Tundra, the steam from them evaporates into the air creating little clouds. The first time I came here, I remember how my mind went cloudy and how the humidity made me feel rather ill; this was when I was little, now I don't really have too much trouble passing through or staying for several minutes at a time. 

"Is something on your mind?" Udo asks; I have been sort of quiet these past few minutes and apparently, me not saying anything for a long time indicates that there's something wrong, or that I need to talk about something.

"Can't I just enjoy a nice, peaceful walk without anyone suggesting or thinking that something's wrong?" I reply, sounding more harsh than I wanted to, at least when I walk alone I am not pestered by anyone to talk when I do not wish to. Didn't I say that I would rather fill my walks with conversation than allow my thoughts to take control? Well, today is kind of an opposite day, I would rather try to sort my own thoughts. 

"I meant no offense," he puts his hands up in surrender, "you know that I've been concerned about things lately and it's my job to make sure you're alright." 

_I'm embarrassed about what happened last night even though I shouldn't be since it's completely normal, I'm scared that everything is going so smoothly and that I might mess something up later on, so no, I'm not alright._

"Well, you don't really have to worry because I have things completely under control." I glance at the ground so that he can't possibly read my emotions. 

"Rowan, I know you and I think I can tell whether or not something's bothering you." 

"Fine, you want to know what it is? I just don't think that Borra getting this close to Freya is the best thing for them. He cares for her, which I admire -" I trail off. 

"You don't want to see him get hurt, you don't want anything to happen to him." He frowns and I nod. "And you're worried that something will happen to her."

"Her mother is very sick, at least that's what she told us, and sometimes her father is gone for days at a time, chances are he might get sick, too." 

"Would you consider adopting her if that was the case?" Frankly, I'm surprised that he even told Udo about her at all, with him being the sort to value his reputation and how others see him. 

"She's the sweetest, most tender-hearted human I've ever met. That we've ever met; I've never heard him speak so gently about a human before; it was a moment of vulnerability and compassion. But it was like I was seeing a whole other side to him."

"I can tell you one thing for certain, Rowan. Borra does not put on simple acts just to impress someone, and he doesn't pretend to like or even tolerate anyone, he is open about who he is and if he's fond of them, he will show it, in his own way, of course. Ah, here we are then."

"I'm not sure I'm looking forward to this lesson," I say, lowering my voice just as we approach the cave that's been deemed our 'school' since that's what the humans in Ulstead call it and because we can't find another term for it, that's what we call it, too. 

"Neither am I, but I do look forward to when it's over and we can brush the subject aside for now." 

Our lesson today involves the history of the war between Ulstead and the Moors, a difficult subject for us to teach, but at the same time it's necessary, as are the basic drills in case the conflict erupts again and things go sour. 

The saddest part of it all, is that most of them have had their own experiences with the war, and some of them are orphans because of it and it is hard for us to answer the questions they often ask us, like 'how could anyone do this?' or 'why can't we just have peace?' and trust me, if I could find a suitable answer, I would tell them. 

The rain has settled to a pleasant drizzle as we enter, and the children have all assembled with their notebooks, pens and pots of ink, all eager to learn.

"I just hate it that when we have to talk about it, we have to see them upset and to hear them ask us why their parents or siblings had died." 

"Yes, but the sooner we prepare them, the better it will be in the long-run. At least they have music afterwards, that's one of their most favourite classes." 

Udo and I take a deep breath and slowly wade through the shallow water, gradually easing into the subject and already, we can see the fright in their innocent young eyes. 

"I just want it all to stop," one says, practically on the verge of tears and Udo takes him in his arms and holds him. Another cries wishing she had her parents back. 

"I wish we could bring them back," I tell her, "but Udo and I are going to take such good care of you because we love you all, like you are our own." 

"What if the humans come and try to hurt us, what will we do? Where will we go?" a Forest girl says. 

"If that happens, we can hide right here in this cave. Some humans are scared of the dark. Come." Udo goes into the very back and waves them over to him. They all do so and I follow along. "Let's all huddle together, and we have to be very quiet." 

"They have torches, though." 

"Yes, but the wind coming through that big hole is strong, it will blow them all out. Hush now." For a group of often rambunctious children, they silence themselves almost immediately; one of them clings to me for dear life and I hold her tightly. "That's it, don't move, don't say a word. If you're quiet, they won't come in here and they won't find us." 

Udo and I look over at each other and share a saddened look; the cave is not just a classroom anymore, the cave is a sanctuary in the storm, a calm place to regroup and become stronger.

* * *

When I step out of the cave again, the sun has come out and all of the clouds have gone away; and I can tell the fledglings are happy because now they can play, they don't mind whether the ground is wet or dry, they will even gladly play in the mud if you allow them to. We grown-ups, however, much prefer to stay clean and free of mud. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him standing on the edge of the border, with his arms spread out and appearing to be reaching for something in the distance, this is shortly followed by jovial shrieks and laughter. 

At first, it's unclear what exactly is happening, but as I get closer, I see that there is a bit of magic emanating from his hands and across the field, Freya is wrapped up in a tree branch and flying through the air, close enough to the ground and the smile that's on his face is unlike any I've ever seen him wear before. 

"I take it your duties are over for today," he says, lowering his hands so that the child is now safe on the ground, she dusts off her dress and then lies down in the grass, facing the clear blue sky above. He turns his attention to me and the magic disappears. 

"Thank goodness for that," I sit cross-legged against the trunk of a sturdy tree, shaded by the thick leaves. "We had to discuss the war and it made a lot of them upset. They don't want anything to happen to us." 

"And what did you tell them?" 

"I told them not to worry, Udo and I would take care of them and keep them safe and that one day all of this would be over and nothing but a distant memory." 

"You mean a great deal to them, it's almost as if you're their mother." 

"I've never thought about having children of my own until recently, when we were talking about Freya. You mean a lot to her, too, you know. The way she smiles at you when you're around and the way you talk about her...but I just don't want you to get hurt." 

"I am aware of the dangers, love; I understand that she might leave this place someday, or that the others might come after us - nothing new about that - but that doesn't stop me from caring about her and wanting to protect her until she is old enough to take care of herself. She seemed sad when I walked past her, so I thought that I would lift her spirits." He sits down across from me and then turns his head so he can see her. "I was thinking that if the situation presses itself, that she come live in the Moors with us." 

"Borra, are you sure you didn't hit your head or something?" I tease, then turn serious. "You've only known her a few days, let's give it a little while before we make the decision." 

"Very well, we shall wait and see what happens, but I've never had my heart set on anything before, so in the end, we're going to be adopting her."

"So even if I did have something against it, which I don't, there wouldn't be the sense of trying to convince you otherwise?" 

"No, that is one thing you should know about me, once I am set on something, I don't often let it go without a good reason." I stand up and then go over to sit beside him, laying my head on his shoulder as we both watch the child hopping onto the rocks and then leaping off of them again. "We will make a wonderful family." 

"Of course we will. And the other children will adore her." 

"That is one thing I love about them, they don't hold grudges, they don't feel angry for long, and they know how to forgive; well, some of them do." 


End file.
